She
paints a pretty picture,
but this picture has a twist.
You see, her paint brush is a razor, and her canvas is her
wrist.
She paints a pretty picture
in a color thats BLOOD RED, while using her sharp paintbrush,
She ends up finally dead.
Her pretty picture picture is fading guite slowly up her arm.
The blood is not racing through her,
She can no longer do harm.
She painted her pretty picture,
but her picture had a twist you see,
Her mind was he razor,
& her heart was her wrist.
.